


Routines Interrupted

by korilove



Series: you & i verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drunk Dialing, F/M, Future Fic, Stiles is lonely, its all a mess, lydia is lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3513551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korilove/pseuds/korilove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 years after leaving Beacon Hills, Lydia receives an unexpected phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routines Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the 2nd part of you & i! This occurs about 3-4 years after the first fic.
> 
> This is inspired by Need You Now - Lady Antebellum, and Beta'd by the lovely [Po](http://mcmartinskees.tumblr.com)!

Lydia hates breaking routine.

Not that the motions she moves through nowadays could really be called an actual routine.

She wakes up at 6:15am and takes a shower. Checks her emails while making breakfast, out the door by 7:30. 15 minute commute to work, so she’s always early. Work from 8-5, where she sits at a desk all day, sometimes swapping gossip with her co worker Lindsey. Home by 5:30, where she cooks her dinner, and eats in silence. Checks her emails periodically throughout the evening while watching mindless television to drown out the constant mess of voices in her head.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she’s sitting on the sofa in her living room, not paying attention to whatever reality tv show is on the flat screen across the room. A half empty bottle of vodka sits on the glass-top coffee table, shot glass accompanying it. Lydia pulled up her long hair into a bun on the top of her head about an hour ago, and all her makeup from the day has already been washed away.

She can’t remember the last time she felt this alone. The routine she’s fallen into keeps almost everyone at arms length, and honestly most of the time she prefers it that way. It’s easier to keep people out of her life than having them walk out later.

Lydia shakes her head at that thought. _You’re the one who keeps walking out._

It may have been a result from her upbringing, parents that left her home alone for most of her life, and ignoring her when they were home certainly didn't help.

Sighing, she stands from the couch and makes her way to the bedroom. It might be Friday, but it's obvious this night isn't going anywhere.

That’s when her phone rings.

\--------------------------------

Since graduating from the police academy, Stiles’ routine is pretty much the same everyday.

He gets out of bed, usually after pressing snooze a few times, by 7:15. He takes a shower once he’s finally awake. He always takes too long, and has to rush out the door to make it to work on time. He grabs what is usually a muffin and whips out the door by 7:45, making it to Beacon Hills precinct just before 8:00.

He sits at the front desk of the precinct for most of the day, unless the sheriff has something to say. His dad doesn’t usually involve him that much in cases yet, he’s only been out of the academy for about a year.

Not that he doesn't investigate the cases on his own time anyway.

He gets home by 7 most nights, either having stopped by at Scott and Allison's for dinner, or hastily making something quick at home. Then, he usually does some recon for the open cases at work. He ends the night by sitting in the lazy boy chair in front of the tv for a few hours -  usually accompanied by a glass of whiskey before eventually going to bed.

Well, most of that is true on this Friday night. Stiles had gone to Scott's for dinner. Allison had made chicken and even with Vicki helping eat them out of house and home, they'd have too many leftovers without him. He'd stuck around for a bit before heading out once Ally had alluded he might want to be gone once they put their daughter to bed.

Returning to his home,(which was the same one he'd grown up in - his dad had moved in with Melissa once they'd gotten hitched.) Stiles felt pretty alone. It was odd to leave the hustle of his best friends' and come home to an empty house.

So he might have poured himself a glass of whiskey. And it may have been more than one.

Or more like an entire bottle.

Stiles misses _her_. He feels it in his bones, down to his very core. It’s like she’s a virus, something in his bloodstream that’s infected him forever.

He misses her long waves of strawberry sunshine in his face when he wakes up. He misses her disapproving looks, her laugh that made his heart soar. He misses their banter over the most trivial things. He misses her small frame pressed up against his. He misses the way she’d say his name sometimes in her sleep - quiet and wispy, like she’d never said anything.

So maybe that’s why he scrolls through the contacts on his cell phone, and dials her number for the first time in 3 years.

\----------------------

Who could be calling her at one in the morning?

That’s Lydia’s first thought as she makes her way back into the living room. Her phone is sitting face down on the table beside the bottle of Stoli.

Her breath gets caught in her chest when she turns it over and sees who’s calling.

She hadn’t been able to delete Stiles’ number from her contacts, even when she’d changed phones. Even though she’d picked up her whole life and moved across the country, deleting his number felt too final.

The picture that was blared across the screen of her phone still makes her smile. She’d taken it without him knowing - his hair was sticking up in every direction as always. He was completely engrossed in studying for the academy, his face was serious and focused. So focused, he didn’t even notice when she’s snapped the photo.

Lydia’s fingers hover over the screen as she weighs the options in her mind. Should she pick up? What would she say? They haven’t spoken in 3 years, what could she possibly say? She should definitely ignore the call. Right?

Heart feeling like it’s about to burst out of her chest, Lydia taps the screen of her phone.

\-------------------------

“Hello?”

Stiles’ breathes in sharply when he hears it. For some reason, hearing her voice sounds like yesterday was the last time he’d heard it, and not years ago.

Maybe it’s the whiskey, or the fact that he has no idea what to even say, but he can’t seem to find his voice, let alone his bearings. He knows she can hear his labored breathing on her end, but she doesn’t let on.

What if she doesn't even know it's him? She had to have deleted his number by now. She probably thinks it's some prank caller - or even worse - a creeper on the other line.

Still, any attempt to make a sound is extinguished. Stiles can hear her breathing through the phone, and it's enough to possibly keep him here forever.

“Stiles?”

God, it’s like she never even left, the way her voice sends shivers all over his body, transforming it into gooseflesh. _At least she knows it's me._ Stiles breathes out heavily and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the wetness that may have formed around his eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Comes her voice again, and suddenly Stiles regrets making the call. Leave it to Lydia to make him feel inferior, even at a time like this.

Finally finding his voice, he whispers “I’m sorry I called.” He removes the phone from his ear and hangs up.

“Fuck.” he mumbles to himself before dissolving into a mess on the chair.

\-------------------------

Hearing the line go dead, Lydia looks in disbelief at her phone. _Did that really just happen?_

Blowing a harsh breath from her lungs, she stows her phone in her pocket, and makes her way back to her bed.

And she doesn’t even bother to wipe the tears as they fall fast from her eyes.

\------------------------

Lydia tries to go back to her same old routine after that. She still goes to work and works her ass off. She still impresses the masses at her job, still keeps people at arms length as much as possible.

But the facade of this mindless, perfect routine is shattered - blown to smithereens by that phone call. She knows what’s missing from her routine, her heart and her life.

_Stiles._


End file.
